


Dorms of Bio Warfare

by Em3kitty



Series: TGS One-Shots [3]
Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: All Boys School, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Crack, Crack Fic, Fluff, I promise, M/M, Phillip ‘The Foul’ Carlyle, Romeo and Juliet References, Snails, all the oddities, bio warfare, boys are gross, constantine has pet snails, definitely crack this time, inspired by medieval warfare, it all started with a typo, it gets very gross, kinda reminds me of an outcast type scenario, mouldy sandwich, over dramatisation, ready willing and able to make a germaphobe cry, school boy!barnum, school boy!phil, school boys go to war, sheeps brains, very over dramatised, warfare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-03-31 15:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13978137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em3kitty/pseuds/Em3kitty
Summary: Boys are gross and things get a little out of hand.Inspired by one of the earliest forms of Biological Warfare, during the Middle Ages, victims of the bubonic plague were used for biological attacks, often by flinging fomites such as infected corpses and excrement over castle walls using catapults.





	1. Chapter 1

 

Headmistress Charity Hallett was sick and tired of the residents in the East Wing Boys Dormitory. It had been going on all year, this unparalleled biological warfare between the residents. It started with a mouldy sandwich getting thrown across the hall from where it had been left over the summer break and had escalated to something beyond her comprehension. Miss Hallett could not wait for the Christmas break. 

 

Just the other week Professor Krooner noticed that the sheep’s brains that are usually used for dissection in biology had gone missing. No one was surprised in the slightest. His partner, Professor Constantine, the French teacher, really became worried when his collection of snails, that he kept for his  _ escargot _ (or so the students thought), went missing. They were still finding them in beds weeks later.

 

What frustrated the teachers above it all, was that they could never catch any of the students in action. The students wouldn’t very well tell on each other. They suspected,  _ oh boy they suspected _ , but they could never find the proof. They had narrowed it down to the boys in rooms 12 and 13, directly across the hall from each other.

 

The boys in their respective rooms had formed a bond; one of blood and brotherhood - or so they like to say. It was The Bakers v The Dozens in a war of stealth, stink, and sanitizer. The Head of the War Council for The Bakers, Phineas T. Barnum, was single-handedly responsible for The Great Hair-Ball of October 18th. Or so they say. He is ruthless, cunning, and, rumour has it, all the staff wrapped around his pinky.

 

Across the hall, The Dozens’ captain, Phillip ‘The Foul’ Carlyle had a team of lewd, revolting  boys at his disposal, ready, willing, and able to make a germaphobe cry. W.D., his right-hand man was suspected of planting used feminine products in the roof of The Bakers bathroom. Said feminine products are presumed to have come from his aunt and the Dance/Art teacher, Professor Anne Wheeler. No one can prove anything, and the certainly wouldn’t admit to anything, so there was yet another hurdle the staff could not seem to make it over.

 

Mary, the school’s resident chef and home economics teacher, had been keeping a stern eye on every student who came  _ close _ to her classroom. The students weren’t sure, but somehow, she had managed to lock up access to the kitchen to the point that not even Sal, the boy that had managed to acquire more detentions than any other student by getting caught in places  _ no one knows how he got to _ , could get into the kitchen.

 

The day that nothing happened in the school, every staff member held their breath; Florence in the English department, Najla and Khaalida in Maths, Christina in Business and Economics, the History teacher, Rita, Lettie, head of Performing Arts, Nea in Administration, Adriane in Geography, Pina and Constantine in the Language department, Rose in the Gym, Julius in the Industrial Technology workshops kept a tight inventory of his equipment, but no one held their breath like Sasha and Hestia, the school cleaners. Walking down the halls they eyed the boys, as if to dare them to try something. A whole day passed and not one thing happened. Nothing went missing; nothing suspiciously appeared. 

 

It appeared, that the warring dorms had come to a mutual agreement. For the Headmistress’ birthday, there would be a ceasefire. 

 

Of course, the next day was Phillip’s birthday, so the staff were bracing themselves for the worst day yet. Vasile and Samson, also known as The Giant and The Albino, were two of the strongest boys in the Baker’s crew and  were seen carrying a few pews from the school’s chapel through the halls, not long after midnight the morning of Phineas’ birthday, but they were back in the chapel the next morning so no one really knows what they were used for, or if they were moved in the first place. That was, until the Dozens arrived for morning prayer and left covered in wet wood varnish. If you lined them up, side by side, alphabetically, they would have  _ Happy Birthday _ spelt across their backs.

 

As the day progressed, the staff seemed to enjoy themselves a little more. None of the pranks that had happened had had a large impact on classes, or the other students. There was less  _ disgusting _ and more  _ pranks _ . That was, until Phillip returned from dinner to find a present wrapped neatly sitting on his pillow. Cautiously, he pulled off the ribbon. 

 

Nothing.

 

Peeling off the paper, the rest of the boys in the dorm decided it was in their best interest to wait in the hall.

 

Still nothing happened.

 

Under the paper was a sealed box. It appeared to be plastic, but opaque, thus hiding the contents further. Slowly, Phillip picked up the box and placed it on his lap, quite confused. There had been no label on the wrapping and there was only one marking on the sealed box - was that a loaf of bread? He lightly ran his finger over the raised marking. At his touch, the box started ticking. Slightly in shock, Phillip was unable to do more than throw the box back to his pillow and scramble to the other end of his bed.

 

He waited, the ticking stopped, and nothing happened.

 

Cautiously, he crept forward, unable to bring himself to touch the box. No sooner had he settled in front of the box, it burst open, spraying rotted sheep’s brains over the dorm. Remaining, at the bottom of the box, was a small letter, sealed in a plastic bag.

 

_ Happy Birthday, Love. _

_ I’ve been thinking of you all day, if you haven’t guessed. _

_ See you tonight, the usual place and time. _

_ Yours Always, _

_ P. _


	2. Confetti!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is for @picnokinesis, who is not satisfied with exploding rotting sheep’s brains and demands diseased limbs. Bring on the confetti.

The day had come. High school graduation. No one was sure who was more happy, the students, or the staff and faculty.

Two years ago, the Bakers and the Dozens were flinging mouldy sandwiches and stuffing the ceilings with used feminine products. Now, it was time for the real world. Or so everyone hoped.

You would think as the boys got older, the “pranks” would descale, or disappear completely. Oh how they wished. Admittedly, there hadn’t been many pranks the last few weeks, but they just brushed it off, surely it was nothing. Surely…  _right???_  

It was half-way through Headmaster Krooner’s farewell speech - Headmistress Hallett was offered a job in a school that didn’t have Phillip Carlyle or Phineas Barnum - when the students began to notice the police officers standing at the back of the hall. Why were they here? What were they doing? What happened? Who’s in trouble? Ignoring the not-so-silent whispering, Headmaster Krooner soldiered on.

Finally, the last student had walked across the stage, and it was time to celebrate the departure of the seniors. Along the walls of the hall were confetti cannons, just waiting to go off.

_**3!** _

_**2!** _

_**1!** _

And with a shout of  _Freedom!_ , the cannons exploded, showering everyone in the hall with confetti. Just not the type of confetti they were expecting. 

* * *

Earlier that morning, the local police had been called down to the town morgue. The rather frantic, hurried message from the mortician had the officers confused, and a little worried. It was a small town, a quiet town. The local traffic consisted of a few old ladies gossiping on a street corner, and on weekends, the boys from the old school up the hill. 

Oh.

_Oh._

With a deep, regretful sigh, the officers pulled straws on who would have to deal with the Baker’s Dozen’s latest prank. When the two who lucked out finally arrived, however, they decided that they would need everyone.

“So tell me who’s missing again?”

“Everyone!”

The exasperated sigh from the officer, and a shared look between his partner, he asked the frantic mortician again. “Who is missing, _exactly_?”

Scuttling over to his desk, the frazzled mortician opened the top draw of his desk and pulled out a clipboard. “Mr. and Mrs. Blaker - they passed yesterday from the shingles, god bless them and their 80 year-old hearts. Ms. Cecil - she passed, uh, about 2 weeks ago from, uh, Gonorrhea. Then there was a Jane Doe, some sort of hitchhiker I think, found dead 4 days ago with her head smashed in. Lastly was, uh, Father Bennett, found dead in his bed just the other day, death wasn’t natural I can tell you that.”

Phillip and Phineas were in for it now. Five stolen bodies and a possible murder. These boys didn’t do things in halves. What was the expression kids used nowadays?  _Go hard or go home._

* * *

While the shredded body-parts showered down around them, Phillip and Phineas could not be happier. 12 years of school were over, and they were never looking back. Ignoring their screaming cohorts, as they were covered in blood and bone, their lips met one final time. They knew there was no way they were walking out of there free.

All they wanted, was to go out with a **b a n g**.


End file.
